Stormwalker: A Start

I have a tendency to veer away from prose, because constructing worlds and characters and extended plot times with the appropriate pacing is extremely hard. This is a very short piece that goes towards an idea that's been in my head for a week or so now; I can picture a flash frame from this scene and it was actually the very beginning of the tick-tock on the old brain clock as I counted down to its beginning.

It's rough, immaturely and incompletely envisioned, but that's okay. Baby steps, this is all about creating on a daily basis; I can refine and rethink later. Some days, I think, I shall write the plot and character synopsis, develop the world, etc. as use of my daily writing challenge.




April 30th, 2014 - Stormwalker: A Start

Thunder courses through the sky into the ears of a frantic nest of curiously antlike humans below. I suppose it sounds to them as though the clouds might come crashing down at any moment, courtesy of my foul mood. Not that they know, of course; nobody knows.

Well, nobody knew – until today.

“Sylla, wait!” The voice, still several paces behind me, beckons.

I’m not exactly running from the guy, but I’m not hanging around to throw him a welcome party either. Each cool breath is sharp in my chest and the damp clings to my lips and every stray hair; it’s a small price to pay for my hours of exploration. The planet’s surface is unbelievable, looks strangely fragile from 13,000 feet up. I understand why people say it looks like glass. One storm gone wrong is all it would take for the cracks to appear. Unsettled, my thoughts retreat from the idea, like wishing away the future were actually possible.

Lightning flashes below me, the charged particles in the air reacting to my fear. The ragged edge of my current cloud is approaching quickly, but I’m not worried. I know it will extend like the sixth sense that stops me from walking into walls – not that it helps much most days. I’m clumsy in a crazy way and there’s no denying it, but this cloud is as much a part of me as my own heart or lungs, my ability as much a part of my survival as the food and water I consume.

Only the storm consumes me in return, drawing life from my inheritance as a stormwalker.

©2014 Chloe Bianca

Miles Lost

On the up side, I've encouraged Aaron to participate in the daily write off challenge for the month of May. I think it'll do him a world of good - he used to take pride in the works of his words and still does on the rare occasion he writes. Perhaps he won't share, he says, but that's okay. Hearts heal when they write.

On the down side, I feel like I'm revisiting my teenage angst years with my poetry, but minus the heated emotions. It's like I'm reverting because it's what I wrote for so long, but in ways it has lost the meaning. I will try to focus on other subjects or revert straight back to childhood. My best pieces are about childhood and children. Something to keep in mind, perhaps.



April 28th, 2014 - 'Miles Lost'


If you ever look
back on those years
                     and smile
I'd be surprised.

You loathed teenage
angst but fueled fires
all the same, throwing
words like logs into its heat:

Because I said so,
said no, no I cannot
and will not stay.

Those days are now
gone, miles lost to your
rear view mirror -

at least with this one
there are no children, just
unadulterated wannabes.




©2014 Chloe Bianca

out

April 27th, 2014 - 'Out'


in a world
of topsy turvy, you're my
straight line; a universe of round-
abouts and the final
exit is mine
          to take

or not.

like clammy
hands you're closing
in and all I want is to shake
you off, break
you down-

throw you
                      out.




©2014 Chloe Bianca

Breath

April 26th, 2014 - 'Breath'

i.

   Your breath
   is my breath; we share
   one heart, though separate
   souls in two bodies
                  must part.


ii.

   Your feet always
   danced without grace
   or care
                 each smile
   of your lips, each fluttering
   hair in the wind makes
   me spin.




©2014 Chloe Bianca

Haven't You Heard?

April 25th, 2014 - 'Haven't You Heard?'


The only thing dark
about shadows of the past
is the allure to be lost

and found.

True, they are flighty, vanishing
at first light, and wax
and wane with the moods of the tide

but haven't you heard?
Temporary existence is beautiful.

If only memories
got the memo - even the good
will haunt me to another tomorrow.



©2014 Chloe Bianca

What's A Write Off?

This is a write off.
This is my write off.

Once again, my desire to write has crept into the month of April that bit too late to participate in NaPoWriMo. That's okay, though, it doesn't have to be the national month of anything to write every day for a month - heck, why stop at one or even two?

I make no promises so I may tell no lies.
I may not write every single day, but I sure will try. This is a huge throw back to my teenage years when I was heavily involved in poetry groups, competitions, workshops and the like - back when I felt my writing was starting to go somewhere, achieve something. Perhaps not to ever be published or famous, but improvement is something to be so proud of.

My poetry can be found on my deviantART page.
My days participating in the 007-WriteOff project can be found here.

So here's the challenge: write every day. My focus will be on poetry, but if I start and find myself frustrated, I may blog instead or try my hand at prose. We'll see, I'm happy to take it as it comes. I'll post the resulting pieces here - they'll be unfinished, unpolished, unrefined and totally worth that embarrassment. I can always workshop them later if I feel they have promise.

I've even convinced Khalid to join me on this venture! Hopefully together we'll get each other through the days where life gets so hectic we forget. Hehe. Here's to our adventure, Mister!